


too late

by euriele



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Blood, Blood and Gore, Gore, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-08
Updated: 2014-07-08
Packaged: 2018-02-08 01:31:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1921623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/euriele/pseuds/euriele
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The war is finally over now.</p><p>It just took the lives of four kids to end it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	too late

Bitters is the first to go.

It’s during a firefight in the rain. Explosions left and right, bullets flying overhead, blood mingling with the mud at Grif’s ankles. And there’s a split second where he doesn’t pay attention, a split second when a bullet grazes past his visor, close enough to leave a scratch. And it’s the shock from that near-death experience that makes him freeze, makes him lose awareness.

He hears Bitters shouts, hears the machine gun fire. And then Bitters is stood before him, taking bullet after bullet to the chest.

The gunfire cuts off after Matthews shoots the machine gunner. Bitters starts to fall backwards, and Grif throws his arms out, catches the kid as he falls. They both fall down into the mud, Bitters’ head back against Grif’s chest whilst Grif grips the front of the kid’s chest plate. Grif notices his hands are shaking, that the blood’s already flowing from the holes in Bitters’ chest plate.

Bitters is gasping for breath. He doesn’t know why, but Grif gently tugs Bitters’ helmet off before pulling his own off and throwing the two helmets into the mud beside him. He supposes its because he doesn’t want the last thing that Bitters sees to be a helmet.

He’s vaguely aware of his squad around him, of them pushing forwards and making the Feds retreat, but the only thing that matters to him is Bitters - his lieutenant, the lazy, good-for-nothing, cocky little shit who couldn’t be bothered to go take a piss half the time.

He’s seen Bitters out of armour several times and he always forgets just how young Bitters is. His young age is heightened now, now that’s he’s dying in the mud. The only sign of hardship on Bitters’ face is the scars on his cheek - shrapnel from a bomb, you remember. He told you that. The scars are the only thing that mar his smooth brown skin, reaching up to touch the corners of his hawk-like yellow eyes.

It knocks the air from his chest, knowing how young this kid is and that he jumped in front of Grif without a second thought, how he saves Grif but brings his own short life to an abrupt end. It really does bring tears to Grif’s eyes, makes him choke out a sob as he looks at this dying kid.

Bitters gurgles, blood making it’s way up his throat at the back of his mouth. He swallows it down, looks Grif in the eyes and chokes out his words. “I have brothers.”

Grif remembers the photos, the ones of Bitters with his four younger brothers. The twins, the toddler, the pre-teen; all of them smiling at the camera with Bitters stood beside them, the smallest smirk on his face. It’s the only time Grif has ever seen Bitters smile.

"You have to tell them," Bitters chokes, a bit of blood running from his mouth. His teeth are stained pink with blood. "You have to tell them. You have to -"

He cuts off his own words, chokes on the blood in his mouth. He looks at the sky, falls still a second later.

It takes a long time for the others to pry his body from Grif’s hands.

 

*

 

Jensen goes next.

She rides besides Simmons in the drop-ship on their way to the fight, has that youthful optimism about the whole thing that most would say is just dumb naivete. She keeps them in good spirits, but Simmons can feel it eating away at him. Her helmet is off. The full force of her braces and chubby cheeks and the permed hair tied in pigtails hits him hard.

He always notices these things about her - the pigtails and the cat-shaped earrings and the braces - and it always makes him do a double-take. A girl this young should not have to fight in the army, he thinks. It’s then that he remembers she didn’t chose the army life like he did. She was a student, a college student whose college was bombed on her first day. Barely made it out alive, she told you. And she’s a soldier now.

Simmons chose to be a soldier; Katie didn’t.

And she’s the one who dies.

She’s the one who runs across Locus’s path, gets caught by the shoulder. She’s the one who turns right into the knife, doubles over and gasps in shock as the knife is pulled out before being shoved back in again. Over and over, until Locus pushes her away.

She’s still standing. She keeps going, stumbles around the field until Simmons catches her and pulls her towards the evac ships. They know the battle’s gone south, long before she was stabbed. He pulls her into the Pelican, lies her flat on the floor. He shouts to the medics, tries to get them to help. But the first one deems her “dead already” and it infuriates him so much he almost stands but she catches his wrist at the last second.

"Please," she coughs. "I don’t want to die alone."

So he stays by her side, makes sure that she’s holding his flesh and blood hand rather than his robotic hand. He knows there’s not much difference due to the armour, but he guesses it’s better knowing you’re holding an actual hand rather than a robot one.

It doesn’t take her long to die. And before she does, she twists her head to meet Simmons’ eyes and shakily says, “It’s been an honour serving with you sir.”

A medic hands him Jensen’s dog tags later on. He puts them on and never takes them off.

 

*

 

Smith’s death shakes them all up.

It’s easily the most violent death. It’s sudden and violent and shocks them all. And what’s worse: Caboose sees what happens.

Here’s how Smith dies:

It’s an infiltration on a Federal Army base. Felix files the report on the base, notes how there’s no patrols along the back of the base. It’s a perfect place to sneak in, considering the sewer grate in the base of the wall. They’re getting cocky, Felix says with a smirk. It’s perfect for infiltration.

It’s Smith who says he thinks there’s something wrong, says there’ll be an ambush. It’s him who offers to go first, just in case something goes wrong. So he steps out into the dust, taking slow steps until he’s out in the open when he determines it’s safe. Caboose starts to follow him. Smith takes another step.

And the ground at his feet explodes.

Tucker’s knocked back in the blast; he’s sent ass over tea-kettle and slams into Palomo. When he’s able to stand again and when the dust clears, he can see Smith’s limbs lying across the field. There’s Smith’s hand lying nearby, his torso with the ruptured spine and the bloody intestines just next to the hole where the mine was. There’s only bits of Smith left, nothing left completely intact. The leg that touched the mine is gone completely, and the foot from the other is too.

And then there’s Caboose, still standing and coated head to foot in his lieutenant’s blood.

He doesn’t say anything the whole way back to the rebel’s base. He stands, silent and shaking with his lieutenant’s blood on his armour and the blood-stained dog tags clutched in his trembling fist. He never says a word on what’s happened to Smith, not until that night.

Tucker only hears the little sobs whilst he’s in the bathroom. He and Caboose still share a room, just for familiarity’s sake. So he can hear when the little sobs start up. He pokes his head around the door, sees Caboose curled on his side in his bed, back to Tucker.

The dog tags - emblazoned with Smith’s name - are still in his hands.

 

*

 

Palomo’s the last one, and it’s Locus who gets him.

He and Tucker are captured in a fight, held hostage in the Federal Army’s base. Armour taken away, wounded and weaponless, they’re in no shape to fight when the rescue comes. Felix shows up in the doorway to their cell, ushering them out. And it’s not easy, trying to follow the merc, considering Tucker’s ankle is broken and Palomo’s got shrapnel wounds in the right side of his chest on top of broken ribs.

Then Locus attacks them, puts Felix’s head through a wall and a bullet into the merc’s spine. Tucker launches himself at Locus, gets his broken ankle kicked from beneath him. It’s Palomo who goes next. It’s Palomo who takes a punch to the jaw so hard it sends him spinning.

It’s Palomo who gets an axe buried into his skull.

He doesn’t scream. He doesn’t gasp. His mouth falls open, but no sound comes out. His eyes go wide; he starts to fall forwards. Tucker sits up on his knees, catches Palomo when he falls. The axe is still sticking out of Palomo’s head, the blood congealing in the kid’s hair and running down his neck. He’s gone already.

All the times Tucker told him to shut the fuck up, all the times he shouted at Palomo and called him names and didn’t listen to him - they push to the forefront of his mind as he sits cradling the poor kid’s body.

All he can think about was that he never had a word of praise for Palomo.

There’s a sudden fury in his limbs, a sudden frenzy that makes Tucker stand, makes him yank the axe from Palomo’s skull and charge at Locus. he doesn’t care that he might die at this point, because he’d actually thank the person who’d kill him. He just launches himself at Locus, who’s so thrown off that Tucker can actually tackle him to the ground.

He swings the axe into Locus’s helmet. It smashes through the visor, cracks against Locus’s face and makes the mercenary scream. Tucker finds he likes that sound, finds that he likes making Locus scream. So he brings the axe’s blade down into Locus’s face again and again, smashing and smashing until there’s no sounds coming from Locus and his arms ache and his shirt is soaked in blood.

And then he finally stopps, finally leans back and presses a hand against his mouth because it’s finally over now.

It just took the lives of four kids to make it end.

**Author's Note:**

> michaeljcaboosie on tumblr prompted it
> 
> everyone hates me now
> 
> i hate me


End file.
